Loathe ya, babe!
by Guardian Number 6
Summary: Veronica Walker felt stuck in her everyday routine. What happens when she and her insane roommate, Cynthia end up nursing some strange creature back to health? What happens when Veronica and said creature find out the hard way that they're too alike for their own good? Please R&R and help me think of a title...RandallxOC down the road, surprises from Monstropolis and sarcasm galore
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only own Veronica, Storm, my ideas and my one-eyed dog, Tink. If I owned MI, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction…and it would be PG13 for language, violence and possibly a suicide scene similar to one in Les Miserables (oops, spoiler alert!). I don't even own her roommate; …she may or may not be heavily inspired by Sheldon Cooper (lawl).  
The year is 2001, like when the movie came out. It starts out in August, near the end of the summer.  
And the rating MAY go up to M, but it's highly unlikely…it's currently T for cussing, crude humour, mature and sensitive themes and possible violence.  
This chapter may not be the best; I got 4 hours of sleep last night…  
I took the Mary-Sue test with both Veronica and Cynthia, Veronica scoring a surprisingly low 9 points and Cynthia a more-expected 11, so I think that they're pretty balanced and non-sue-ish…I hope so, anyway…**

Veronica peeked around the corner of the trailer, removing her earphones. She'd heard yelling and wondered what in God's name was going on down there. Her eyes widened in shock and she grabbed her mother and soon wrestled the shovel that she was beating a strange purple creature with.

"Veronica!" Her mother gasped in surprise.

"Step aside, sissy! Let mama handle this one!" the girl's little brother, Storm yelled.

Veronica let out a short snarl, obviously aimed towards her brother.

Storm and their mother stared at her, wondering if she had gone insane in the short months she'd been living in California, so far. She literally had no explanation for this outburst of hers; it was rare that she became sympathetic towards anyone or _anything_. She slowly lowered the shovel and picked up the creature, balancing it on the edge of the metal.

"Couldn't y'all have at least been humane and shot the bastard?" she asked, tucking a strand of thick brown hair behind one of her tiny earlobes and began to walk towards the main entrance and exit of their beat-up old trailer, sneaking a look at her family from behind her slight highlights as she opened the door.

_Okay, now that was weird…I'd better get rid of this thing…_ she thought to herself, looking around in the moonlit yard for a place to dump the strange reptile-looking thing until morning. She contemplated waking Cynthia, her roommate, who was visiting her own family in the next trailer, but as she reached their door she was greeted by the sound of the heavily Texan woman yelling at her daughter about Jesus Christ and how evolution was just an opinion. Not wanting to disturb them, she tiptoed back to the creek behind their old homes. Montgomery, Texas. She hated the place with a _passion fierier than…well, a campfire, I guess _she rolled her eyes at her lame thought and tossed the thing into the swamp. She turned on her heel and moved back towards the metal box her family members, who were now staring at her through a window, called home.

She had just begun to reach for the doorknob when she heard a moan. A _human _moan. Her stomach began to tie itself in knots as she turned to look at the lot.

"Uh…Hello?" she called, quietly. Her accent was noticeably still quite southern, but it had clearly changed in her short life so far in California.

No response.

"Is someone there?"

A slight stirring somewhere around back.

"Cynthia, this isn't funny…" she laughed, nervously. Cynthia wasn't one to play tricks of any kind, being annoyingly serious and socially clueless, but it was a more logical thought than…

Another moan filled the night. It could now be identified as a male, human, on the young adult side. She spared one last look around before rushing inside the trailer and locking the door behind her.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning, she awoke to more moaning, though this time it was her own. She didn't want to drive back to San Diego today, even _if _Cynthia would be taking a few shifts. She managed to pull herself out of bed and looked at the clock. 11:30. Wow, she'd managed to sleep that long? Maybe those new pills really worked…

She walked outside, still in her tattered PJ pants and tie-dyed t-shirt from the 80's. That was the nice thing about their park; you could walk out _nude_ for all these people cared. Simple folk. They didn't take much from words or from appearances, more from someone's overall behavior…and their family members. With rowdy brothers, a sister that got knocked up at 15 and a cheating father with an insane mother, Veronica was easily stereotyped.

She moved towards her neighbors, but that's when something came running at her. She gasped. It was that _thing _from last night. She ran right towards it, which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the smartest thing that she could have done in this situation. Actually, it was probably the stupidest thing she could have done. The creature seemed to go unconscious as she tripped and toppled onto it, knocking its head against the ground.

Veronica was shocked at her actions. She pushed off the ground and backed away quickly, not wanting to take her eyes off of it. She stopped to take in its appearance.

The thing had _four _sets of limbs, purple skin that faded to blue at the tip of its long tail and to pink at the ends of the three fronds on the top of its long, flat head. She took another step back only to trip over the stump of the tree they'd cut down a few years ago. She continued to crawl backwards to sit on said stump, not even blinking as she kept her eyes fixated on it.

_How? _She asked herself. _And, more importantly…__**what?!**_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cynthia massaged her temples as she glared at her mother from across the table. Was it so impossible for this woman to keep an open mind? Sure, religion was a nice thought, but science had _much _more proof and just seemed so much more realistic. She ran a freckled hand through her curly red hair, tiredly. None of them had gotten any sleep the previous night; they'd been too busy arguing over theories of creation.

"Mother, all I'm saying is that not everyone's going to go along with some book written thousands of years ago."

"No daughter of mine will-"

"Mother, I'm 22 years old; I can shape my own beliefs!"

Her mother began to rise from her seat across the table when she realized that Cynthia, still in her clothes from the day before, was up and nearing the door. Before the religious woman could protest, her genius daughter was outside.

That's when she saw it. It was clearly of the reptilian class, but what was its family group?

"Veronica?"

"Cynthia, is that you?" her friend asked, not wanting to risk turning around.

"Yes…what is that thing?"

"I'm not sure…My mama beat it over the head last night; Storm thought that it was a gator."

"That is not a gator." Cynthia stated, matter-of-factly in her strangely northern accent. She'd only lived in San Diego for a month longer than Veronica, making her accent even stranger than it would normally be considered.

"Ya don't say?" Veronica deadpanned, risking a glance in her roommate's direction, but quickly snapping her attention back on the creature.

Cynthia stared at the thing as Veronica stood up and walked in the opposite direction, risking everything. She stared at the brunette in shock, wondering what in the _world _she could be doing, or where she could be going.

"Are you…going to get dressed?" she guessed.

"No…" she smirked as she grabbed a fire-poker from her small shed a few feet away. "That's _not _what I'm doing." A slightly sadistic smile crossed her face.

As she began to walk back, Cynthia grabbed her arm.

"Now, now. This _thing _could be the latest evolution of reptilians; we should see it in action before we do anything too hasty…"

"I'm not gonna kill it, Cynthia. I just plan to…poke it. This is merely an object of self-defense in case it tries to attack me…again."

"Again?!"

The small girl ignored her psycho roommate's rant of danger, keeping her eyes on the creature in question. She distanced herself as much as possible from the thing, just barely in reach of the poker. She let it probe at his purple scales in an attempt to wake it. No dice.

She frowned.

"Cynthia, could you grab a bucket from the shed and fill it with swamp water?"

"What?!"

"I wanna revive this thing!"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I can think of millions of reasons why not!"

"Look, you're not in as much danger as I am. Go back home for all I care while I do this. Just get me the damn water."

Cynthia reluctantly walked towards the shed, keeping her distance from the bizarre creature as she did as the 21-year-old asked. As she handed her the bucket, she whimpered a small amount, sounding nervous. Veronica ignored this and dumped the water on the creature without warning.

It started to squirm and Cynthia broke out in a lame-looking sprint.

**A/N: Yup, that's it. Sorry if it was terrible, like I said; lack of sleep. But anyways, should I continue or should I delete this altogether? Please R&R**

**~Squid~**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Please see my latest profile update before bitching me out for taking so long to update…thanks!**_

**Fun fact: When I was a kid, I ended up getting a large, deep cut somewhere in between my eyebrows (not that one spot that could paralyze you, obviously) while playing basketball. When my mother told me that it would most likely become a scar, I went into hysteria, worrying that I'd end up like Scar from the Lion King…Wasn't I precious? Now I'm in love with Scar, and there's only one actual scar on my body. It's on my wrist, next to my vein. No clue how it got there; I've never gotten hurt in that spot…**

**Parker was, like my other OC's, run through a Mary-Sue test, in which she scored **_**NEGATIVE 5 **_**(I didn't even think that was a possible score…holy shit), so I really doubt that she'll turn into a Sue…And sorry about how long this took; writers block is a **_**bitch, **_**plus I've been working on a personal project (if anyone has read/seen the Hunger Games, I'm writing Foxface's story)...and I'm also writing out the storyline of every chapter, plus the descriptions/personalities/biographies of every character, so I don't, for example, write two different descriptions for Parker, here. These guys are the surprises from Monstropolis! I might make this a love triangle…and a very confusing one, at that. **

**And, before I get a debate on this, dyslexia can be overcome. My father had it, but overcame it. I've heard many cases of this. **

**Then, I'm about to go to bed, and I'm closing all of my programs when **_**BAM! **_**I decide to work on this. The fuck, dude?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Monsters Inc or Sheldon Cooper/the Big Bang Theory. I also don't own Fearless, which contains a character (whose name I currently can't recall) that heavily inspired Lola. **

_**Chapter Summary: **__When Randall's orphaned little sister arrives home from school and, when she doesn't find her brother anywhere, and no one's seen him at work, she and her best friend, Brandon, decide to take matters into their own hands. _

_Man, I hope Randall's home; I really don't want to take him his supper, again. _15-year-old Parker Boggs unlocked the front door to the house she and her brother had shared since she was about 11 years old, hating it every second of every day. She and her brother had never seen eye-to-eye. He was all work and no play and she was, well, not. She was raging all-night parties and he was the one who usually had to pick her drunken ass up from some guy's house early the next morning.

She pushed through into the front hallway. It was a _modest_ home, and that was being generous. The scarers didn't get paid much, unless they were something more major. Like Sullivan and Wazowski did, for being the top scaring team. Randall, being second best, was easily ignored by the company, despite being _one of _the best scarers and working late so often. He was so secretive, even she and Lola didn't know anything about what he was doing those nights. When the scare floor closed, it closed for good. No working late, there. He didn't have even half of the paperwork that Fungus had, so that shouldn't keep him busy, unless his dyslexia somehow was a factor, but he'd overcome that back in _elementary school, _so it r_eally _shouldn't have been an issue.

So what was keeping him so late? Couldn't be anything in his job description.

"Randall?" she called, sighing when she didn't receive an answer. She'd have to walk down to the plant herself.

"He's not here." Another feminine voice called. Randall's stupid girlfriend, Lola. She'd moved in only a year after Parker had, and hated each other ever since.

"Yeah, I realize that, genius." The pale yellow reptilian called back up.

Lola groaned and walked past the teenager to start dinner. She had to attempt it a few times before she could make something _edible _most nights. 2:30 was a good time to start, since Parker usually took Randall his food around 6:00.

Not only were Parker and Randall opposites in personality, they were opposites in their physical appearances, too. He had their father's purple and pink colouring, their mother's short fronds and green eyes, while she had their mother's yellow and green colouring with their father's long fronds and pale violet eyes. She wasn't essentially "scary", but that wasn't a problem, not wanting to go into the scaring industry, anyway. She didn't know what she wanted to do, really, but she knew it wasn't scaring.

Now, it wasn't that Parker couldn't cook; it was that Lola didn't want to feel useless. She didn't even have a real _occupation. _Although her various _jobs _covered the walls…mostly "artsy" black and white pictures of high-heeled shoes and little purse dogs in those grassy fields in the country outside of the large city of Monstropolis. But there was that one picture that she took; one little picture that sent chills down Parker's spine.

It was back when Randall and Lola were just friends, all those years ago. It was taken the day of the accident. Parker hadn't wanted to be in the picture at all, and you could see it on her face. Randall was glaring at her, telling her to smile just as the picture was taken (oh the irony). Their parents, however, were happily ignoring their children and smiling at the camera.

_Why couldn't they have ignored me that night?_

Parker had been yelling at them for not letting her go to some stupid slumber party when her father turned around to yell at her from the driver's seat, swerving and hitting another driver.

She hated herself for what happened that night.

There had been a little boy, about a year younger than her that she'd hung out with, that night. He'd been battling cancer for most of his life, by then. Leukemia, to be exact. Brandon Samuels.

They'd been best friends since. He'd been cancer-free for just over 2 years, now, after it had come back when he was 12.

She shook the memories free from her already cloudy mind. She was popular in school, and all the drama was starting to exhaust her.

She massaged her temples gingerly, placing her second set of hands on her respective hips. She needed to lie down.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"_Parker…" _cooed a sickeningly sweet voice. Almost like drinking 12 sugars in a glass of sweet tea.

Parker groaned, rolling over.

"_Parker…"_

She rolled again, this time falling off of the red false leather couch.

"It's 6, you should take Randy his supper."

Parker looked up to see Lola standing over her. She could easily be a relative of that receptionist at the company. She had a similar build to Celia's, with light green snakes, whose tiny faces were, no matter what, were always twisted into an angry snarl. She was wearing a short jean skirt over her multitude of legs and a tank top the same colour as her strange hair. She, however, had 3 light brown eyes and a small dog-like nose. She was fairly attractive, but her personality deducted from this.

She held out one of her Easter yellow tentacles/hands/whatever and helped the lean reptilian girl up.

"…6?" Parker moaned, holding her head, trying to soothe it from the impact of the cold, hard floor. Lola nodded

Parker snarled slightly at this. It obviously wasn't directed towards Lola, but she most definitely wasn't happy with the strange walking octopus-thing.

"What now?" her roommate glared

"Nothing you should worry about. Where's the paper bag?"

"Counter."

"'Kay."

And, with that, the yellow lizard slithered from the home and into the streets.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Randall!" Parker shouted through the glass, irritated. He usually would be waiting in the lobby, by then. She peered into the bad and stifled a laugh. Vegetable soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Lola really needed to take a cooking class, sometime. She looked back up through the window on the door and tried to get in, once more. It was locked, like most nights. There was always the odd night that he'd leave it open for her to find him, but it was rare.

"Come on, I've got homework…" she mumbled to herself, before screaming for her brother through the glass, some more.

"Did you hear about that place? Shut down; it's where that kid came from."

She noticed the man talking to another on a nearby bench. She blended and went up behind them, to listen more closely.

"Yeah, I have a cousin who worked there. Yup, Mike Wazowski, he tells me he convinced his roommate, Sully, to bring the thing in and worked out a plan to put it back in its own world."

"I heard something about two workers being banished, is that true?"

"Well, the boss hasn't been, yet, but Mike tells me that he and Sully banished this one themselves; some guy they called 'Lizard boy'. He dropped the call, so I have no clue why, though."

"I'll kill them…" Parker whispered to herself, forgetting where she was.

"Huh? You say something, bro?"

She quickly slithered away, remaining unnoticed by the two, now confused men, and into the streets.

**A/N: Ooooh, cliff-hanger…I know that you probably wanted to see what was going on with Veronica, Cynthia and Randall, but they're driving from Texas to California; nothing too exciting. But trust me, the second I publish this, the next chapter (including the aforementioned characters) will be started. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: …Am I wasting my time with this? I mean, I don't mean to be ungrateful or anything, but according to my traffic stats, there wasn't a single view of chapter 2. I mean, really? People say "I like where this is going" and then don't bother to ever read it again? *Sigh* Sorry, kinda lost it, there…I shouldn't take it out on you guys, but…Hell, I bet no one reads this, either. **

"Uhh, here's something we didn't think of."

"What is it now?"

"How do we get this thing down the hallway?"

"…You're right, that is a problem."

"No, Cynthia, really? It's a problem?"

"Okay, you're equally at fault, here."

"Just shut up and think!"

The female duo sat in the 2 front seats of Veronica's used car, which she'd had since age 16.

"…I think I've got it." Cynthia piped about 30 seconds later.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The girls eventually were walking down the hallway to their ground-level apartment with an old red couch they'd found out at a curb, with the strange purple creature, which Veronica had knocked out a second time before leaving and had convinced Cynthia to tranquilize, was stuffed behind the cushions.

"Hey girls!"

Veronica dropped her end of the couch at the sound of the man's voice.

"Hey Aidan" she smiled, spinning to face him.

He was on the smaller side, like she was, but that was where their similarities ended. He was half Cherokee and half Japanese, having a very unique look. His inky black hair complimented his tanned skin and dark eyes, ending around mid-neck. He smirked.

"Um, new couch? I think they usually deliver those…"

"Uh, yeah, but Cynthia doesn't trust them." She lied. The red headed girl cleared her throat.

"Well, do you trust _me?" _he turned to her, half-joking, lifting up the back of the couch before receiving a response. Veronica gave Cynthia a look.

"…Yes."

And so, Aidan helped them carry the couch into the apartment, but soon dropped it, along with Cynthia soon after they got it through the door.

The creature was reviving, and the cushions were flying.

**A/N: Short, I know, but it's a test. I want to see whether or not anyone's reading and I didn't want a 4,000 word chapter if no one's going to see it. **

**~Squid~**


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